


Acceptance

by VyeLoyomBrightwarrior



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Spinner Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:04:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4385924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VyeLoyomBrightwarrior/pseuds/VyeLoyomBrightwarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted by mywhatafunnygirlthatbelle from tumblr. </p><p>There is some violence and torture so be forewarned. </p><p>“Enough!” a voice calls.  Hordor stops instantly and he can’t stop himself from looking up as someone approaches.  No, not someone.  The princess.  He drops his head in fear as she comes closer, the guards letting go of him and backing off.  And then she surprises him by kneeling down in front of him, gently gripping his face and tilting it up, unmindful of his tainted blood now staining her perfect hands.  His unworthy eyes lock with her perfect piercing blue ones and he thinks one such as him ought to be killed for seeing such a sight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Taxes

He is forced to his knees before the king and his court, trembling in terror. He doesn’t even know what he’s done, but it’s obviously something bad judging by the way they are treating him. They took his staff, beat him, and chained his hands behind his back. And now he’s in front of the king. This isn’t going to be good. 

“What has he done?” the king asks the guards. 

“This worm here couldn’t pay the taxes,” Hordor takes pleasure in stating. It’s completely untrue though and he wants to protest but he holds his tongue. Who would believe him over a knight? But then, people get put in jail for such things. If he’s put in jail than what will happen to Bae? Certainly nothing good. Though arguing will just get him in more trouble and that can’t be good for Bae either.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” the king questions. He’s shocked really. He hadn’t expected to get any input at all.

“To my knowledge I have kept up with the taxes sire,” he states. After all, he’d gone hungry to ensure he paid the taxes. He knows for a fact that he paid them all. He highly suspects Hordor of stealing his money but he knows he can’t prove that.

“Liar,” Hordor says, cuffing him on the back of his head. He can’t stop the humiliating whimper that comes in response to that what with the recent beating still all too fresh in his mind. He cowers away a bit, hunching over to hang his head lower in a weak attempt to make himself less of a target.

“Give me a reason not to put you in jail,” the king tells him then. Rumple thinks, unsure. He could talk of his son but he knows that plea has been used before to no avail. Everyone has heard the stories. That means there is probably nothing he could say or do to make the king listen. Just then one thought jumps to mind. It is one foolish horrible thought that is likely to get him in trouble, but it’s also the only thing that might possibly work.

“I cannot make money to pay you from prison sire,” he responds. Silence permeates the room and even if he isn’t looking up, he can feel the stares boring into his very being. He is so dead. Sure enough Hordor moves around to face him before kicking him in the head. He reels back, blood trickling down his chin from his newly split lip.

“How dare you?” Hordor questions. He whimpers instinctively, trying to scoot away from the angry knight. Other guards grab his shoulders from behind, forcing him to stay kneeling in place as the bully advances. A second later he gets a kick to his gut. He cries out in pain, instinctively trying to curl. All that does is cause the next kick to hit his head.

“Enough!” a voice calls. Hordor stops instantly and he can’t stop himself from looking up as someone approaches. No, not someone. The princess. He drops his head in fear as she comes closer, the guards letting go of him and backing off. And then she surprises him by kneeling down in front of him, gently gripping his face and tilting it up, unmindful of his tainted blood now staining her perfect hands. His unworthy eyes lock with her perfect piercing blue ones and he thinks one such as him ought to be killed for seeing such a sight. “Do you have anything to offer us to keep yourself out of prison?” she asks him then. He has no money at the moment, and certainly nothing valuable for a princess. 

“Only my thread milady,” he tells her. It’s really the only thing he and Bae can spare even though it is the only thing they want to spare. But sadly he can hardly sell any of it. He’s the worst spinner in existence and he’s lucky to sell his thread for half the price others sell their wares for. He doubts that it would suffice for the king and princess, but it’s all he has.

“Do you have a sample of your work?” What? No, of course he doesn’t. He’d been brought here unexpectedly and even had he known why he was being brought here and had time to prepare, he would never have thought to bring a sample. But no, wait. He’d patched up his shirt just the other day with his own thread. 

“I patched my shirt just the other day milady,” he tells her, instinctively moving his hand to point out the spot. Only the chains are still holding him tight and they easily keep him from moving as he’d planned. Which means now he has to describe where it is and… and then she’s touching his shirt gently, pointing to the very spot he’d been thinking of.

“Here?” she asks him, one hand still keeping his face trained on hers even as the other touches his dirt-covered blood-stained shirt. He can’t get over the beauty of her eyes or the fact that she is touching him. In a positive way. She’s not either so repulsed by him that he can’t touch him or so disgusted that she has to hurt him. Only Bae is ever like that, and this beauty before him doing this for him… it leaves him a bit flustered.

“Yes milady,” he tells her. 

“May I?” she asks him then, nodding to the patch. It takes him a minute to realize that she is asking permission to probably inspect his clothes. After having his shirt torn off mere hours before for a whipping, that seems surreal. 

“Yes milady,” he agrees. Her hand leaves his face and he ducks his head to watch as she takes his shirt in her hands, rubbing her fingers over the thread. She concentrates on a section where the thread isn’t covered in dried blood or dirt. He has the urge to tell her that he is normally in a better state than this but he doesn’t think she’d like him speaking out of turn so he remains silent.

“How much thread do you have?” she asks him then, pulling her hands away from his shirt. Shame fills him as he remembers just how many spools of thread he has lying in wait to be sold. He’s actually slowed down production because of lack of buyers and yet he still has a great excess of wares.

“Around one hundred spools milady,” he tells her. But this is good actually. They’ll probably need a lot of thread to make up for the money they claim he’s missing. 

“Would you look at me?” he princess asks. He’s not sure why she doesn’t just gently lift his face up to hers again but he obliges her. Again he is struck by the beauty of her compassionate eyes. He almost drops his head down again, feeling as though looking on her is stealing something precious. But she wants him to look at her so he does. “How much do you sell your thread for?”

He can’t stop himself from looking down for an instant but he forces himself to look back up again, knowing she most likely wants to see his face while he answers. Otherwise she never would have asked him to look at her in the first place. Still, the answer to this question is humiliating and he honestly hates having to give it to this perfect woman. “Three bronze coins milady.” She stares at him for a minute and he can’t help but look away again, hating himself and how worthless he is.

“That’s less than half the normal rate,” she states. He remains silent, shame pooling in his gut as the whole court stares him down. “Why do you charge that low?” she asks him finally. He frowns to himself, glad that his long hair blocks her from seeing that. He’s grateful that she doesn’t ask him to look at her again because he doesn’t think he could handle that.

“That’s the price people are willing to pay milady.” 

“Why?” comes the question. It’s the last question he wants to answer but she’s asked and she’s the princess. He has to tell her.

“I am a coward milady,” he informs her as he stares down at his own battered worthless body. 

“He crippled himself to avoid war,” Hordor jumps in, obviously happy to be able to provide that information. Half of him wants to just disappear but that would mean leaving Bae alone and so he doesn’t truly wish it. Besides, it’s not possible so there’s no use in wishing it. He’s endured insults and being looked down upon for years, he can handle this. Even if the ridicule is about to come from the most perfect woman he’s ever laid eyes on.

“I can hardly see how that would affect the price of his thread.” His head shoots back up in a heartbeat as he stares at her in shock. No one has that opinion. No one. Everyone tells him he is lucky to get paid at all for anything. He doesn’t understand how she can claim otherwise.

“No one wants to buy from a coward milady,” Hordor informs her of the obvious. Her compassionate eyes are turning colder, angrier. Seeing that makes a shiver of fear go through him. This is not a person to cross, that much is obvious. Hordor doesn’t seem to get that. “I mean, no one would care if he just fell down one day and died. In fact, we’d probably have a party.” He’s back to looking at the ground again, shame claiming him because he is right. No one would care at all. Only Bae would, his precious boy.

“Really?” the princess asks. “Are you sure? You wouldn’t be able to steal his money then, would you?” He again jerks his head back up, staring at the princess with his mouth hanging open. How had she known? And why does she seem angry about it? Why does she care about him? Because the more they talk the more it seems that way and he just can’t fathom it.

“I’m sorry milady,” Hordor starts to say. “I don’t…”

“Stop talking,” the princess orders harshly, startling him. He continues to stare as the guard who has terrorized him for years shuts his mouth, looking scared for the first time Rumpelstiltskin can remember. “I can tell you’re a bully,” she adds scathingly before turning her attention back to Rumple. He luckily has enough presence of mind to close his open mouth but there is nothing he can do to make his eyes less wide. He’s still in too much shock. “What’s your name?” she asks him gently. He gulps, trying his best to get his mind back under his control.

“Rumpelstiltskin milady,” he manages to crock out. She gives him a reassuring smile.

“And you’re sure you paid your taxes?” Fear tightens its hold. If he says yes than Hordor will be furious, but if he says no he’ll end up in prison. He can’t protect his son from prison. 

“Yes milady,” he answers truthfully struggling now to keep his gaze locked with hers so she won’t think he’s lying. She turns then to her father and the man sighs, obviously receiving some sort of message from his daughter’s look.

“I suppose we can look into it.” The princess nods at him one before turning back to the poor spinner still kneeling on the ground. Her eyes take him in, scanning over the blood and dirt he’s covered in. He hates this. He wishes he actually looked somewhat presentable for the princess but there is absolutely nothing he can do about that. All he can do is watch as she turns to the guards behind him.

“Unchain him,” she commands. After the dressing down she gave Hordor the men don’t hesitate to obey. The one with the keys bends down, unshackling him. He brings his hands in front of him then, holding them close. He doesn’t dare touch his wrists. They’re bloody from the tightness of the chains. Actually he can hardly feel his hands. Fear strikes him hard. He hopes that’s temporary. Otherwise he won’t be able to spin, and then he and Bae will be dead within the month. She bends down that, kneeling in front of him. He drops his gaze, staring at the much safer ground.

“Do you have a family Rumpelstiltskin?” she questions. 

“I have a son milady,” he informs her quietly as he tries to figure out why that’s important. He has no clue what she would want to know about his family life.

“Just a son?” He winces at the memory of Milah and how he’d failed her. His ever present shame becomes more pronounced.

“Yes,” he barely manages to whisper, unable to even force out the princess’s proper title.

“Gaston,” she says then. “Take some men you trust and have him show you where Rumpelstiltskin’s son is.” He can only assume that she pointed at Hordor when she said him. He could look up and confirm that he supposes, but he’s too much of a coward to do that.

“Of course milady.” 

“And someone get a healer in here,” she orders then to his ever increasing surprise. “Don’t worry,” she tells him then in a softer voice. “Everything is going to be alright.” And somehow, despite his instincts, he trusts her.


	2. Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bae gets brought to the castle and Rumple has a hard time understanding why the princess seems to care about him.

Bae isn’t sure what to do. He knows his papa has been captured by guards, but he has no idea why. He also knows that they could do practically anything they wanted to the man everyone calls the town coward and no one would bat an eye. What Bae doesn’t know is what to do about it. His papa had told him not to resist when they took him hours ago. He’d listened of course but now he’s regretting that decision.

He’s done all his chores, cleaned the house, and even polished up the wheel. There’s nothing left to do now. His papa would have sent him out to play hours ago but Bae has no intention of leaving the house. He wants to be here when his papa gets back. He hasn’t even gone to the neighbors like his dad told him to. He doesn’t want to. He just wants his papa to come home safe and sound. But the longer it takes the more Bae thinks that isn’t going to happen.  
He’s watching out the window when he sees the group of guards heading this way. Guards but no Papa. Anger grips him. They took his papa and now they’re coming back without him? Bae doesn’t know what they did to him but he knows it can’t be good. Someone has to stand up to these bullies. If his papa were here he’d insist that Bae leave it alone. But Bae is tired of watching the guards bully his papa day in and day it. He is tired of sitting back and watching injustice. He’s not going to do it any longer.

He steps outside and strides out to meet the men, body tense with anger. “How dare you?” he questions the man he knows to be the lead guard, Hordor. “My papa didn’t do anything! What did you do with him?”

“Calm down,” another guard says gently, stepping forward. Bae doesn’t want to calm down though and he certainly doesn’t want to listen to the tall man standing over him. He steps forward as well, glaring up at the man.

“No!” he shouts, balling his hands into fists. He’ll take on each and every one of these men if he has to. “Not until you tell me what you did with my papa!”

“He’s safe,” the man informs him, hands held out in a placating gesture. “I promise he’s okay. We’re going to take you to him, alright?” Bae frowns, startled. Since when did the guards speak that softly, that nicely? Since when did they ever do anything a peasant wanted them to? Was this a trap? No, that didn’t make sense. They wouldn’t try to trap him when they could just force him into doing what they wanted, would they?

“You didn’t hurt him, did you?” he questions. The man grimaces a bit and that actually makes Bae trust him more.

“He was hurt but he’s going to be okay now,” the man tells him. The fact that he admitted to the pain is a good sign. Bae is fairly sure he can trust this guy now. He could be wrong, but he really has no other chance of seeing his father. He has to go with these men. He casts a glance a Hordor and sees the man scowling at the other guard. That makes Bae’s decision super easy.

“Okay,” he states. “Lead me to my father.”

* * *

 

Rumpelstiltskin sits on the bed that is far comfier than any bed he’s ever sat on in his entire life. He tries not to even think about the other things in the room. It’s all too much. The rug alone probably costs more than his house and everything in it combined. He works hard to not fiddle with his new bandages. That would probably only cause him more pain. So he sits in this new room in the new clothes that were given him wondering what on earth he ought to do now. The princess had sent someone to get his son so there is nothing he can do on that front even if he is worried about his lad. He could explore this room a bit but he is absolutely terrified of breaking something. He could sleep. He’s tired enough to. But he doesn’t want to go to bed until he’s sure Baelfire is safe. 

A knock comes at the door. He looks up, startled. It’s not like this is his room. He’d expected people to just come in really. He grabs his staff that was leaning against the wall and stands, facing the door. “Come in,” he states shakily. Normally he would go and open the door but he fears that would take too long for the person’s liking. The door slides open then, admitting the princess and some of her guards. Rumpelstiltskin stares at the princess’s feet. He isn’t even worthy to look the guards in the face. He knows he ought not to stare into the eyes of the princess.

“Oh no no no,” she says then, startling him. “You don’t have to stand. You should sit down.” He follows the order instantly, slipping into a sitting position on the bed as he tries to figure out why the princess was so concerned with him standing. Was she scared he might attack? Did she not want him to be taller than her? It couldn’t possibly be that she was concerned for his health. No one was ever concerned for his health besides Bae. She couldn’t possibly care. “How are you feeling?” she asks then, forcing him to reevaluate his earlier thought. Why would she ask that if she didn’t care?

“I’m fine milady,” he informs her, clutching his staff close. His staff is his support. It’s what keeps him up. It’s what he can cling to when everyone taunts and hurts him. Even though he despises the fact that he needs it, it has only ever helped him. It’s safe for him. And so he holds it now as he tries to figure out what it is that the princess wants with him. She stays silent for a moment, regarding him. He tries his best not to fidget under her gaze.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened to you Rumpelstiltskin,” she says then. What? Why? Why should she care about anything that happened to him? He’s the town coward, the lowest of the low. Surely a princess shouldn’t be concerned with the likes of him. But then she’s coming closer as the guards hang back. “You’re not going to turn to stone if you look at me you know.” That most certainly seems like an order. He raises his eyes, finding himself staring into the sparkling blue gems again. His breath catches in his throat as he finally identifies what makes her eyes so beautiful. There is no malice there. No hate or disgust. No, in her eyes there is only kindness and concern. He can’t understand why that is, but he does know that it’s beautiful; entirely too beautiful for him. He doesn’t ever want it to stop, even if he’s sure her kindness will run out all too soon.

“Gaston should be back soon with your son,” she informs him with a smile. It’s as though she knew he was worried about his boy.

“Thank you milady,” he responds to convey his gratitude for the information. She comes even closer then.

“How are your hands,” she asks, sounding concerned. He frowns, glancing down as his wrists before looking up at the princess again. “I saw that they chained you too tight.” Too be honest he really isn’t sure how his hands will be. The healer said he should recover completely but he’s still very worried about that. If he loses use of his hands he loses his livelihood. If that happens Bae and he will starve to death. That’s the last thing he wants. And even if he’s going to recover, he doesn’t have much time. He can’t wait weeks before spinning again. He needs to heal quickly. He doubts the princess wants to hear all that.

“They’ll be fine milady.” She continues to give him a soul searching look before continuing, like she’s trying to figure him out. It’s not that hard really. He’s a worthless coward. He doesn’t really think there is much to him.

“That’s good,” she states. “I was worried.” No. That… it can’t really be true. What princess cares about the state of the town coward’s hands? She can’t really care. 

“Can I sit?” she questions then, gesturing to a spot on the bed next to him. He just stares for a minute. She asked him for permission to sit? That’s when he realizes that he is keeping her waiting.

“Yes of course milady,” he rushes to say. She gives him a reassuring smile and he starts to wonder then if he’s dreaming. There is no way this could actually be happening. She sits next to him, not too close thankfully but not clear on the other side of the bed either. In a way it’s comforting, having someone who obviously cares about him so close by. Even though he can’t figure out why she cares.

“I’m going to have Gaston investigate the guards who did this to you,” she tells him then. “They aren’t going to get away with this. I promise you that.” He stares at his hands, unable to find a suitable response to that. Well other than pinching himself to see if he’s awake. Though he can feel the pain from the wounds, so he knows he must be awake. This just isn’t making sense. 

“Thank you milady,” he mutters quietly as he stares at his hands again. He really doesn’t know what else he could do.

“Papa!” he hears then. He’s up in an instant, relief flooding through him as he sees Bae run through the door. 

“Bae,” he breathes happily, holding out his arms to give his lad a hug. Bae stops short though, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Papa what did they do to you?” he asks as he takes in the bandages on his wrists. Rumpelstiltskin is extremely grateful that the worst of it is hidden beneath his new shirt. He doesn’t want Bae to have to see just how bad off he is. 

“I’m fine Bae,” he insists, stepping forward to and hugging his boy. Bae seems unsure about the state he’s in, but he hugs back eventually even if it is the gentlest hug ever to have existed. Bae is safe. Rumpelstiltskin is safe for the moment. Everything is going to be alright. He looks over at the princess then to discover she has stood up. A tall guard stands next to her, making Rumpelstiltskin feel extremely tinny. Was this Gaston, the man who’d gone to get Bae and who the princess was going to get to look into Hordor? Rumpelstiltskin hadn’t thought he’d be so intimidating.

“We’ll leave you two alone then,” the princess states as she moves back towards the door. “Bae’s room is through that door,” she adds, pointing. Rumpelstiltskin turns, startled. Bae’s room? Bae is getting is own room when this room is almost as big as and certainly much nicer than their hovel? “Someone will be up in a bit with some food.” His brain struggles to keep up with the unexpected information as the princess gets to the door. “Good bye.” And then she and her guards are gone, slipping out the door. Rumple looks down at Bae, seeing that the lad is just as shocked as he is. 

“My own room?” Bae questions as he looks around the large space. 

“Apparently,” Rumpelstiltskin agrees, unable to think of anything better to say.

“What happened?” Bae asks then, giving his father his full attention. Rumpelstiltskin isn’t surprised. It’s not every day that one gets beaten by the palace guards only to be given a room to stay in in the palace by none other than the princess. 

“I’m still working that out myself,” he admits. Bae frowns, obviously not wanting to take that as an answer. Rumpelstiltskin sighs as he sinks back onto the bed, exhaustion starting to overtake him. Now that Bae is here, he doesn’t really have incentive to fight it. “Hordor said I wasn’t paying my taxes,” he says, watching Bae’s face contort in anger. He hurries on then, not wanting Bae to dwell on that. It could get his lad in serious trouble if he got angry at guards. “The princess didn’t believe him though,” he adds, looking at the door before realizing that he’s gazing helplessly at the last place he saw her. He quickly turns back to his boy. “I think we’re going to be fine now,” he adds reassuringly. Bae doesn’t seem completely satisfied with that brief answer but he lets it go for the moment.

“I agree,” Bae states. “I think the princess is actually nice.” Rumpelstiltskin nods. “But you look like you could fall asleep any moment now.” 

“I’m fine Bae,” he argues. Bae gives him a look though, the look he usually gives when he wakes up in the middle of the night to find his father spinning away. Actually Rumpelstiltskin has been getting that look a lot lately from his son. It’s the you-need-to-take-better-care-of-yourself look. It’s a parent look. His son keeps giving him a parent look and it both makes him so proud and hurts him so much that his son is grown up like that. That his son had to grow up. “But I suppose laying down for a bit couldn’t hurt.” Bae smiles a bit and so he lays down on the comfiest surface he’s ever laid on. He doesn’t really stand a chance of staying awake on a surface like that. He’s fast asleep within five minutes.


End file.
